heartThree years ago today my father passed away.

Last night, as I lay awake in bed, I remembered his last night.  His breath was ragged and labored, as I attempted sleep, uncomfortably curled in a chair in the hospice room.  In the early morning, my mother and I both awakened, and we gathered around my dad.  His breathing had quieted.  His eyes opened, and we each tried to convey to him our last messages–of love and thanks, and his earned peace and rest.

Today has been an unseasonably cold and rainy day in the Northeast.  I found myself reminiscing about a Memorial Day weekend many years ago, when my family was still learning the ropes of vacationing with a pop-up camper.  We spent another Memorial Day weekend cold, wet, and mostly miserable.  It wasn’t the most auspicious of beginnings.  Yet, there were more family trips, adventures, sunny days and rainy-cold nights.

Isn’t it funny, the things we remember?